


maybe it was time to say goodbye

by alexiswrites



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Hurt Tony Stark, M/M, Steve Rogers Has Issues, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-10
Updated: 2019-05-10
Packaged: 2020-02-29 15:01:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18780634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexiswrites/pseuds/alexiswrites
Summary: in which tony stark is hurt and steve rogers doesn't know when to stop.





	maybe it was time to say goodbye

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! SEQUEL IS UP, CHECK IT OUT!   
> I've gotten rid of the series since most of your guys don't see the other parts, it's called, 'for him, that was enough'.  
> This work was inspired by So Selfish - somanyfeels

He couldn’t point out when exactly it became too much. He’d say that it had started when James Buchanan Barnes returned, but he would be lying. He knew that it had started years before that. Maybe when Steve had woken up from the ice or maybe when SHIELD collapsed. He didn’t know exactly when, but things had started to change.

It had all began when Steve stopped sleeping in their bed. He’d subtly said that Bucky had nightmares, and that he was the only one who could hold down the traumatised man when he’d wake up screaming. Tony could understand, after all, he too faced night terrors, though they had gone away ever since he and Steve had started sharing a bed. It stung a bit, but he knew that maybe, just maybe, he would’ve done that for Rhodey, and so he pretended that it didn’t hurt every time and that he didn’t wake up every night, trembling and in cold sweat.

It was only for a few months, he’d told himself.

When Steve had stopped spending his time with Tony and starting spending most of his waking moments with Bucky, Tony could understand. He’d fought for his best friend, and he was finally back. He could understand, after all it was only a few months.

When Steve ditched Tony on date night, saying that Bucky had been having a rough day, Tony could sympathise. He would’ve comforted his best friend if he was POW for 70 years and had severe PTSD issues. So once again, he told himself that it was only for a little while and that everything would be alright and that Steve would be back to normal as soon as Bucky started adjusting to the 21st century.

When Tony didn’t get to spend much time with Steve on his birthday because the man was too busy helping _Bucky_ through the noise of the 4th of July fireworks, Tony couldn’t say that he wasn’t hurt. He hadn’t even had the chance to give the man his present. Nevertheless, he’d pulled a graceful performance, excusing Steve’s absence as him being sick, so that the team wouldn’t suspect a thing. He had pulled up his big boy pants and showed up with his press smile, so natural looking, that no one would see the masked hurt behind it.

When Bucky conquered his PTSD and was well accustomed to the new world, Tony was the first to congratulate him and offer him a new arm. Though the long-haired man had been reluctant to ask for such a massive favour, he relented and politely accepted Tony’s offer.

That day, Tony thought that everything would go back to how it was. His relationship, which had undecidedly been put on hold because Bucky needed help, would restart and everything would be great again. Like it used to be.

When Steve stopped visiting him after missions, Tony was hurt. The man used to make it a point of returning downstairs, to Tony’s workshop and check up on him, peppering light kisses to the spots that he was injured. He’d do the same, kissing the already healing wounds that littered the man’s torso.

In one of the recent missions, he had taken a rather hard hit and had been flung into a pile of debris a few metres away. It had bruised his ribs, and had given him a concussion, though; he did go to Dr Cho and get it checked out. He was supposed to rest and not do any strenuous activity until the ribs healed, which could take anywhere from a couple of weeks to a month. He had waited for Steve after that mission, down in the workshop, like he always did, but the man didn’t turn up. So he ignored the slight sting in his heart and convinced himself that his lover must’ve been busy with clean up. He waited, every day after a mission, for the next couple of months (as they were only called in when there were odd creatures tearing apart Manhattan), but the blond man didn’t come over and check.

Steve would still get up in the morning, make Tony breakfast, give him his good morning kiss when the genius stumbled into the kitchen, before placing a cup of steaming coffee on the table and heading away, to start the day. He could say that the indirect dismissal didn’t hurt, but he’d only be lying to himself.

So Tony relished in these little things. He enjoyed the chaste kisses, the rare time they got together or the rather occasional date, in which Steve was usually pulled away early as Bucky and he had something planned for the rest of the day.

He would call himself selfish, sometimes, when he wanted Steve to spend more time with him or when he wished that Bucky would overcome his problems faster.

There was times when he and Steve would go to dinner, or an amusement park, for a date, and Steve would bring Bucky along, everywhere. Bucky who looked uncomfortable. Bucky who seemed as if he didn’t want to be there. Bucky, who was everywhere, even if he didn’t want to be.

What really hurt him was when Steve started shying away from touching. Touch had always been important to Tony, and not just in the bedroom, but because he needed a way to ground himself, and touch appealed to his senses most, keeping him from a panic or anxiety attack. It hadn’t been noticeable at first, but slowly, Tony seemed to realise that he Steve wanted to keep PDA at a bare minimum. When Tony stumbled in one morning, later than usual, everyone had already been in the kitchen, including Bucky. Steve was at the stove, holding a pan and humming to himself as he scrambled a few eggs for Tony. Tony had stood at the coffee machine, brewing some of the ambrosia, and leaned over to claim one of his rare kisses, only to receive a small, barely noticeable peck on the cheek.

“Good morning, Tony,” Steve had said warmly, though the smile he was wearing didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“G’mornin’ Steve,” he’d replied, not looking anyone in the eyes.

His coffee had brewed, and Steve had served his eggs, before the taller man took his exit, the elevator doors of the common room closing behind him.

“Is everything alright between the two of you?” Natasha had asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Everything’s fine, Tasha, why would you think otherwise?” he’d retorted, not at all convincingly, but it had been a reply.

“Alright, I’ll take your word for it, Tony,” she’d finished the conversation and Tony had all but rushed out of the room to start his day in the workshop.

“Why does he not love me anymore, Fri-baby?” he’d asked his AI.

“I don’t know, Boss, but it’ll get better. I promise that if he won’t stick around, I will,” she’s replied, as empathetically as an AI could.

“What would I do without you Fri?”

“You’d probably go insane, Boss,” she’d replied honestly.

“Is that sass, young lady?” he’d asked, jokingly.

“Of course not, Boss. Why would I sass you?” she’d retorted, and he could almost hear her smile.

Maybe, just maybe, things would be okay again.

Maybe Steve would come back to him and all would be right again.

~

“You’re hurting him, Steve,” Natasha spoke evenly, “So I’d suggest you get your act together before he decides to be less forgiving, because it isn’t fair to him.”

“I’ll take care of it, Natasha.”

“Good, you better,” she’d said before turning on her heel and walking out the door.

~

The last straw had come on New Year’s Day.

Steve had come down to the workshop for the first time since Bucky came back, which was well over eight months ago. It had been eight months since Tony had had a peaceful sleep. It had been eight months since he felt like he had a boyfriend. It had been eight months since he had felt loved.

Tony, sweet, naïve Tony, who thought to give Steve another opportunity, one that he wouldn’t mess up, had agreed to go out on a date on New Year’s Eve, and then go to Times Square to wait for the clock to strike twelve. And then to kiss, like cliché and cheesy high schoolers, but the idea of spending time with Steve won over and he agreed.

~

Sharp at nine o’clock, Tony sat waiting at the fancy Italian restaurant, waiting for Steven Rogers.

He’d waited until the clock hit ten, before he found himself perched on a bench at Central Park, about nine miles away from Times Square. It had been ten-thirty and Tony could hear his heart breaking as he stared up at the stars.

“The names’ Stan, you look like a bit like a lost star,” a man piped up, sitting next to him.

“Tony. I’d say that I am,” he’d replied, looking at the man.

“Have you ever heard about Orion?” he’d asked and that had struck up quite a conversation.  

He went back to Times Square with the elderly man, and they spent their time together at a diner, and strolled into the main part of the large Plaza, being pushed and nudged by people, who were counting down.

_10_

_9_

_8_

_7_

_6_

_5_

_4_

_3_

_2_

_1_

And they all let out whoops of joy, some kissing their significant other, whilst some simply shouting in ecstasy. He watched, as they all soon d             issipated, before waving goodbye to Mr Lee and walking home, his heart crumbling in his hands.

~

Steve must’ve had a good reason. He must have.

He figured that he’d probably find Steve with everyone in Communal area, as most had their families visit them for Christmas and the New Year, so they’d all probably be up there celebrating a new year.

The elevator doors slid open and he stepped out to find everyone cuddled up on the couches. Now that wouldn’t have been a problem if Steve hadn’t been there, cuddling with Bucky, whilst reciting old stories of them.

He felt his tears well up in eyes, but he quickly swiped them away. Hydra might’ve conditioned Bucky Barnes, but Howard Stark had been relentless and had stored a different kind of conditioning in his son.

_Stark men are made of iron. Stark men don’t cry._

“I’m moving to Malibu,” he said, evenly, though he couldn’t hide the crack in his voice or the shattered look in his eyes. They all startled at the sudden intrusion, but were surprised when they comprehended the words.

“Wh-What?” Steve had looked at him.

“I hope you’ve had fun these past few months, what, with your best friend returning and all that. But I just feel that we’re not working out anymore and that this has been a long time coming, you really shouldn’t be surprised, Steve,” he said, giving the man a sad smile.

“I’d say I’m sorry, but you’ve hurt me, and I’ve allowed that. I’ve let myself soften around you and maybe that was my mistake. I only came back to ask why, why I wasn’t enough, why don’t you love me anymore?” he whispered.

“Tony—”

“No, I-I don’t want to hear anything. I’m done. I gave you a chance no matter how much I was hurting, and you blew it. This isn’t on me. But I just came to ask before I left, why wasn’t I enough for you?”

“Baby—”

“No. No, don’t—don’t call me that. You know what I did today?” and upon hearing silence, he continued, “I went to that Italian restaurant where you made reservations for us. I sat there for about an hour, and then I realised that you weren’t coming, so I left. I went to Central Park.”

“Tony—” it was Rhodey who tried to speak this time.

“I went to Central Park and I watched other couples stroll around happily, and watch the stars. So, I watched the stars too. Did you know that Hydra is the largest constellation? I didn’t. This lovely old man called Stan Lee, amusing name, I know, sat next to me and told me that I looked like a clueless star, finding my way through the galaxy. He told me about Orion and Virgo and all the other constellations. It was refreshing. It was probably a risky move, going out with some random old man, but what’s the worst that could’ve happened? We went to this retro diner at the Square and we watched the countdown. Maybe at the start of the day, I might’ve wanted you to be there with me. To experience that with me. But now that I look at it, I’m glad you didn’t come, because maybe I would’ve let myself suffer for a few more months and I can’t do that anymore. I can’t do that to myself. I’m sorry, Steve, but I can’t anymore.”

“I—I,” he stammered.

“It’s alright, maybe I can rest now.”

“Tony, I’m sorry. Please don’t leave me,” the blond begged.

The brunet smiled sadly, “Maybe you should’ve thought about that when you hurt me, over and over. It was great knowing you all, but Malibu is calling, and it’s always been more like home than New York. You can keep the Tower, I’ll move Stark Industries. It was nice knowing you all, but maybe it’s time to say goodbye. Rhodey, you’re always welcome.”

He winked at the Colonel and gave them a tired smile before he spun around and walked through the opened elevator doors.

He’d miss Sam’s jokes.

He’d miss Wanda’s childishness.

He’d miss Clint’s pranks.

He’d miss Natasha’s maternal side.

He’d miss how Vision would sound like JARVIS.

He’d miss Bucky’s curiosity.

He’d miss Steve Rogers’ love.

Maybe he’d visit Brucie, Thor and Loki.

After all, maybe it was time to say goodbye.

**Author's Note:**

> Tell me how it was in the comments.


End file.
